“I didn’t say I’d stop if you admitted it. I told you I’d stop if you stopped.” Grady shoved the bag in the garbage before looking back to see Ben digging a hand into his dark blond hair.
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Ben turned as if he was about to leave and Grady caught his arm.
“How and why would it be different if we shared her? We know how to do it, the mechanics of the act are pretty easy to understand. Not only could we do it, we could do it well.” Simple fact and another point Ben couldn’t deny.
Ben frowned and shook his head. “Not her. She’s our best friend. Our partner. You don’t fuck your partner.”
“Who says?” Grady grinned. “And stop referring to sleeping with her as a fuck. It isn’t that, and you can’t say so and pretend it would be. We both love her. She’s been there for both of us through more shit than—”
“Exactly.” Ben pushed Grady’s hand away. “Exactly why we can’t risk messing up what we have going because we thought with our—”
“So I nailed a school order. I love those.” Pushing through the door, Carrie rushed into the room and wrapped her arms around Ben’s neck to grin up at him. “Can you say easy money, Bennie-boy?”
Grady laughed as Ben wrapped Carrie in his arms for a quick spin while his pained expression spoke volumes of what he’d rather do with her. “Easy money, sweetheart. Easy money.”
Pressing a fast kiss to his cheek, she twirled over to Grady, pausing as if unsure whether she could hug him as she so easily grabbed Ben. Their girl wasn’t stupid. She felt it. He would bet money she felt it.
Taking the decision away from her, Grady swept her into his arms, cupping the ass haunting his dreams and giving her an innocent spin before kissing her cheek as near her ear as he dared. A tiny shiver shook her body and rewarded him for the flirtatious move. He resisted nibbling his way across her jaw to claim her ripe, red lips. “You wrap this town around your fingertips with your decadent delights, Carrie. How can they pass up on your flaky pastry?”
“They can’t!” Her tone was breathless and he could hear the tension in it. They might all be pretending, acting like they weren’t burning like he was, but Grady wasn’t fooled. The sexual tension was the elephant in the room and had been ever since the party revealed more than any of them planned. As usual, Carrie fled the room with a stiff smile thrown over her shoulder—escaping before she gave herself away, or so she might think.
As the door swung closed behind her, he glared at Ben. “We need to talk. We can’t keep pretending none of us feels it.”
Ben sagged. “I know. I don’t want to ruin anything.”
Grady nodded. Normally, he wouldn’t hesitate, would have forced the conversation already to break the tension.
But Carrie was special.
Bracing her hands on the cool glass of her display case, Carrie concentrated on breathing.
In and out.
Meditation taught her to suck in the good energy and blow out the negative. None of her teachers ever mentioned what exactly you were supposed to do with sexual tension taut enough to leave her breathless.
Ben and Grady were the ones she leaned on in times of trouble and the only people she really felt worthy of going to bat for when trouble hit them. They’d been together forever. Their friendship always seemed rock solid, even when Bennie-boy became a brainiac better suited to the nerd table, Grady a handsome football star, and she turned into a red hot-mess because of her home life.
Her mom had married the letch whose groping hands chased Carrie into avoiding home as much as possible by the time she hit high school. Ben and Grady always stood by her, getting them grounded more than once for missing curfew to stay with her until her mom got off work.
She laughed with them. During bad breakups, she cried with them—before kicking the dumb bitches’ asses that hurt one of her guys. They shared everything.
Once they got out of school, she headed off to study culinary arts, Ben got a degree in business management, and Grady got married.
They stayed close but, for a while, their childhood dream of opening a bakery got lost to the college years. Then Grady got divorced, she and Ben graduated, and it seemed perfectly natural for them to close ranks and open up shop in their hometown.
Now Decadent Delights served the tri-county area and life was good.
At least until that stupid party a month ago.
Sighing, Carrie grabbed a rag and rubbed at the spotless counter. One night of drunken silliness and everything changed. At least she’d finally managed to get over Freddie, but at what cost?
She could pretend not to notice the way Ben grew out of his nerdy phase and into a sleek man, all dark-haired and gorgeous. She could pretend Grady didn’t still have shoulders big enough to span a river and that his hair didn’t look like burnished gold under the florescent lights.
The hard part, since that night, was not looking at the outline of their cocks in their jeans and wondering what it would be like with them. Wondering what might have happened if she’d stayed…just imagining.
Dammit.
Chapter Three
The white boxes sat on the back seat of the car, looking crisp and marked with the shining purple logo Grady had created for them a few years back. Looking at it with pride, Carrie turned and almost ran into Ben as he joined her on the sidewalk. Catching her breath, she asked him, “Do you have the invoice?”
“Do I ever forget stuff like that? I think you’re mistaking me with blondie over there.” Waggling his brows at Grady, Ben handed over the slip with a tender and familiar smile.
“Okay, you’re in charge. He’s coming with me to haul. We’ll be out about an hour, but I’ve got extra éclairs in the back fridge. You know we always do really well with those on Mondays.”
“Yes, little mother. I can run the store. Off with you. Go deliver smiles.” He pecked her cheek, but she noticed he seemed to stay close for a moment longer than normal.
Stupid. It was all in her head. She projected her own newly awakened desire onto them, which wasn’t fair. Spinning, she yanked open the passenger side door and waited for Grady to join her. His hand slid over the gearshift and she closed her eyes, trying to reprogram her brain not to notice the blunt length of his fingers and imagine how they would feel streaking across her all-too-willing flesh.
In the car, the scent of him didn’t get overwhelmed by the sweetness of the shop. Male, a blend of leather and soap seemed to roll off him. He smelled good enough to take a bite out of.
With her eyes closed, it dragged up the memory of that smell closing around her.
Drunk. She’d gotten so drunk that night. She’d tried to drown her sorrows and created an even bigger problem. She should feel guilty for lusting after her best friends, and did most of the time, except when she was alone at night and made matters even worse by jilling off to the idea of them wrapped around her like a blanket of man. Sighing, Carrie rested her head against the glass of the car door, ordering herself to forget it. Shifting at the heat that pooled at the memory, she rubbed her hands on her arms as if to remove the over-sensitized feeling from her skin.
“You cold?” Grady’s voice sounded concerned and she met his eyes. The hazel tint of them today leaned toward green and she resisted the temptation to brush a lock of his gold hair from his eyes.
“No, I’m fine.” The words sounded choked. She could hear it.
Silence filled the car, awkward with the words they weren’t saying.
Sucking in a wobbly breath, she stuffed down the feelings. The vehicle slowed as he turned into the school parking lot. As soon as the car came to a stop, she hopped out, fleeing the conversation they weren’t having.
“You grab the boxes. Meet you in the auditorium!” She squeaked the words and caught a glimpse of the knowing look on his face.
Running from it, and the feelings, sh
e pasted on a smile and went to charge a school for some treats.
Grady looked across the car at her as she huddled against the window, practically pinned to the door to stay away from him and not cross the invisible barrier between them. In all the years they’d stuck by each other, awkwardness never sucked the life from their chats. Carrie listened when his heart broke and when he touched the moon with happiness. Never silence, though.
Pulling over onto a dirt road, he slammed the car into park in an oil well driveway. “We’re talking.”
Giving him damn good blank face, Carrie met his eyes. “We’re usually talking. Your point? Why did you stop? We need to get back to the shop, just in case—”
“Look, you’re pretending nothing happened. Ben is pretending nothing is happening. I’m the only one looking at the pink elephant and calling it lust. You wanna quit hiding how you feel and say it or do you want to pretend nothing changed at that party? I’m willing to play it whichever way makes you happy.”
Clearing her throat, she looked away, deer caught in the headlights all over her pretty face. “Which party?” She blinked at him, her attempt at feigned ignorance failing miserably.
Punching the steering wheel, he groaned. “You two drove me crazy when we were kids. Do you remember the time you pretended not to care when you fell out of that tree and broke your arm and he pretended it was okay, to keep you calm? You’re both still pretending now and you still suck at it. I’m not good at the hiding my feelings stuff, so I’m going to say what I have to, and you can decide what you want to share after that, okay?”
Plucking at her pants, she refused to meet his eyes. “Whatever. I don’t know what you’re—”
“Don’t.” He cut her off and finally her baby blues met his gaze. “Don’t lie to me. Whatever else comes of this, we’ve never lied to each other. Let’s not start this late in the game.”
She bit her lip and looked away again. “Okay.”
Blowing out a breath, he spoke to the back of her head, since she still wasn’t looking at him. “I’ve been attracted to you for a while. I don’t think I realized how much until that night at the party when they chanted ‘kiss’. I wanted to kiss you, to touch you, and Freddie was a good excuse. Once I had a taste of you, I wanted more. I can’t unfeel how it felt to have you moving, turned on, in my arms. You can try to tell me it’s not bugging you still, but you can’t pretend it was booze that had you turned on. I know you. You were into it.”
Her pale hand finally raised, nails trimmed back for work and free of any polish. “I didn’t say anything, Grady.”
“Okay.” He waited. “Well, anyway, I still want you. I think about it all the time. Do you feel anything?” He’d known her long enough to recognize the conflict reflected in her gaze. “Do you want both of us?” For some reason, he held his breath once he asked. It didn’t occur to him until he’d asked how much the question meant to him.
If she only wants one of us—No. She was theirs. She’d always been theirs. He wasn’t entirely sure he could be okay with her picking only Ben, nor was he sure he could resist her if she said she only wanted him.
“It’s a moot point, Grady. We’re together every day. We’re grown-ups. We can admit that sexual attraction happens. It doesn’t mean—”
He breathed out on a whoosh. “I told you not to lie to me.”
She caught her lip in her teeth again, and he stopped resisting.
Covering her mouth with his, he tangled their tongues, catching her head to change the angle. Her moan hit him in the gut and his dick twitched in happy response. She tasted like springtime, her soft body under his hands even more irresistible than he’d remembered.
“Wait!” Pulling away, she braced a hand on his chest. “You’re right. We should talk. All of us. We shouldn’t have pretended this long.”
The concession didn’t rank high on his list of things to do right then. Not when his hands could be parting her blouse, holding those beautiful breasts.
“So, you both come over to my place after work. I’ll get us some dinner—”
He snorted. “You mean to say, you’ll call for Chinese takeout?”
Her smile broke the tension snapping in his chest, allowing him to breathe past wanting her. “Yeah. So what? I’ve told you guys, I cook all damn day. The last thing I want to do when I’m off work is—”
“Slave in a kitchen.” He turned the key and started the car back up. “Yeah, yeah, excuses not to make pie heard and understood.”
Tinkling and almost lighting up his world, her laugh filled the car. “You wanna cook?”
“Hell no. But we do need to talk.”
He hoped her idea of talking matched his.
He wanted to talk using his skin.
Grinning, his foot might have been a little heavy on the gas. The faster they got through the work day, the faster he could seduce his best friends.
Chapter Four
After showering, she shaved.
Usually, this wasn’t really a reason for her hands to shake when she applied eyeliner. Actually, putting on makeup after she showered from work deviated from her normal night, but the shaving seemed telling. As if she planned to seduce her two best pals into a threesome.
Which was dumb. She would never do that.
She wanted to do that. She wondered what it would feel like to be twisting between them, four hands streaking across her skin and igniting the passion she held in check for them.
Dropping the eyeliner because her hand trembled, she breathed through it.
I can do this.
Brushing hands down her pant legs because they felt sweaty with nerves, she rolled her eyes at the image reflected in her bathroom mirror. Rounded face, blue eyes and stringy long hair—not the face of a woman who could seduce two men into playing a few rounds of naked Twister.
Yeah, I can do this because there’s not a shot in hell they both actually want me like that. They love me, but want me? Sexually?
Yeah fucking right.
The self-recrimination helped bolster her spine, making her able to face them.
The doorbell rang, as if triggered by her preparedness, and she padded barefoot out to answer it. Although she’d put on makeup for some idiotic reason, she knew that getting all dressed up for “The Talk” would have been too obvious. She could bear a lot of things, but them making fun of her for this? She wasn’t sure she could take it.
Opening the door, she let them both in and they towered over her. In all the time they’d been friends, she’d never noticed how much bigger they both were than her until recently. “Takeout is in the kitchen.”
“You remember cheese wontons?” Ben asked, giving her a one-armed hug as he passed.
“Of course.” She avoided Grady’s gaze, knowing he wasn’t playing at the façade of normality anymore. If she didn’t look at him, she wouldn’t fantasize.
Yeah, right.
Taking the white cardboard box from Grady, Ben read his lips. Are you going to say something?
Sighing, Ben dug chopsticks into the carton, searching in a sea of noodles for a shrimp. Grady always came out of the gate, like some angry bull, plowing into situations without thinking and going with his gut while Ben was left to finesse things.
This situation might require finesse.
His gaze tracked to Carrie, legs curled up on the chair next to his and face bent over her own white carton.
The outfit she’d chosen didn’t help his lust any. The tight tank top outlined the large breasts he’d always wanted to taste. Built like a woman, not a girl, Carrie always reminded him of some classical painting. With her creamy skin, abundant breasts and curving hips, he’d never been able to resist her. He never knew if she’d set the standard for beauty for him because he loved her or if it had been the way he was wired to begin with…but it didn’t matter either way. He wanted to touc
h that soft skin and listen to her moan, always had and likely always would.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he reminded himself they were in business together. They were friends. Friend rule number one: You don’t bend your friend over her dining room table and make her scream out orgasms until her legs shook. No matter how much you wanted to.
The idea of sharing her with Grady, of watching her suck his cock while she took Ben’s, notched the pressure in his pants higher and he shifted his hips to make room for his blood-filled cock. Finesse. “Grady mentioned he’d started to discuss with you what happened at Darcy Winter’s party.”
Casual. There, the perfect tone for broaching the subject.
Clicking her fingers, she grinned at him. “That’s whose party it was. I honestly couldn’t remember why we were there. Old age, huh?” She focused on her food again, still acting oblivious.
“Carrie.” One word from Grady and she dropped the chopsticks.
“Okay, fine. We kissed. No biggie. We’re all adults.”
Her eyes seemed to search Ben’s, looking for a response. Looking for the logic they both expected from him, the logical one.
“Yes, we kissed.” He managed to choke the words out. She waited. Glancing at Grady, he knew the other man wasn’t going to let this go. He could say something. Defuse the tension filling the room. “I want to kiss you again.” Coming out in a rush, Ben wanted to yank the words back out of the air as soon as he’d said them. Those weren’t defusing words.
But the heady blend of relief and panic from saying it out loud left his blood pressure rising. He’d told her.
Would she laugh and reject them both?
“You’re kidding, right? I’m not your type. I’m not his type.” She gestured to Grady before tucking a strand of her shining hair behind an ear. Her chest heaved, only causing him to notice her breasts again, which didn’t help his stiff dick any.
“I’m not kidding.”
She digested the information, plucking at the tablecloth. “So you expect me to believe that you’re both attracted to me?”
Must Love Cakes: Watkin's Pond, Book 3 Page 3